


Duty of Care

by bumblebeesknees



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Being A Parent Is Very Very Hard, Curses & Spells, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Family Dynamics, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Magical Mystery, Parent-Child Relationship, Shockingly There Is An Actual Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-09-18 14:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16996782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bumblebeesknees/pseuds/bumblebeesknees
Summary: Iris Rouse’s operation to create more warlocks is dismantled months ahead of schedule. In the aftermath of her disappearance, Alec steps in to give Madzie a home. But with Rouse haunting Madzie’s nightmares and the realization that there are some things he won’t be able to teach a young warlock, Alec seeks out those who can help with both these problems.As it happens, getting acquainted with Magnus Bane ends up creating almost as many problems for Alec as those he helps solve.-The most magical thing about Madzie, Izzy frequently teases, is that she actually finds Alec funny. Three and a half months into living at the Institute, everyone agrees that while Madzie generally laughs and smiles more than she did in those awful few weeks at the beginning, the person she’s the liveliest around is Alec.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this fic has been a lo-oong time coming. alec & madzie's relationship in the show is incredibly special to me, and it's been such a great experience for me to try and write about their connection within the bonds of a found family, exploring a kind of love that needs a whole different language to convey. i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i'm enjoying the process of writing it!
> 
> thank you as always to [partnerincrime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/partnerincrime) for the beta, to [beatperfume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatperfume) for the storyboarding, and to both for being the most amazing cheerleaders a girl can ask for. <3 <3

The most magical thing about Madzie, Izzy frequently teases, is that she actually finds Alec funny. Three and a half months into living at the Institute, everyone agrees that while Madzie generally laughs and smiles more than she did in those awful few weeks at the beginning, the person she’s the liveliest around is Alec. 

“I mean, it’s the same the other way around too,” says Izzy. “The number of times I’ve seen you smile – like really smile – has gone from once a week to seven times a day.”

“I’d have a lot more to be happier about if looking at you and Jace didn’t give me anxiety,” points out Alec, “wondering what kind of mess you got yourselves into this time.”

He’s sitting on his bed as he talks, folding the load of Madzie’s laundry that just finished drying. The amount of her clothes that run through the machine every week is truly shocking. Adventurous children, Alec has discovered, usually aren’t the cleanest ones at the end of the day. 

Izzy, of course, doesn’t bother lifting a finger in helping Alec with this chore. 

Maybe he should be a bit more charitable, he thinks. Izzy _did_ just come back from a demon slaying in Staten Island with two subpar archers as backup. Alec’s field missions had already decreased ever since his parents moved to Idris and leaving him in charge as acting Head, but Madzie’s presence means he’s now _choosing_ to send out the squadrons for more routine missions.

So instead of making snide comment, he gestures toward Madzie, who is flipping through the pages of a children’s picture book, one of Alec’s favourites from when he was a kid. She’s lying on a rug on the floor on her stomach and lazily swinging her legs back and forth – the exact same position as Izzy, though Alec can’t tell if it’s conscious or not. 

“And when I look at Madzie,” he starts, and Madzie perks up at the sound of her name, turning to look at Alec. “All I think about is how clever and responsible she is. You think you can teach Aunt Izzy some of that good stuff, Madz?”

“Silly Alec,” says Madzie, resulting in a gleeful grin spreading across Izzy’s face. 

“Yeah, Madzie – Alec sure is silly, isn’t he? For thinking Aunt Izzy’s not the best?”

“No, because _Alec’s_ the best,” is Madzie’s matter-of-fact response, and Alec laughs at Izzy’s mock-offended squawk. It’s stupid how touched he feels at Madzie’s declaration. She’s only around five, and obviously she’d think that whoever she spends the most time with every day is the best but – Alec can’t help it. He leans over the edge of the bed and stretches out an arm, prompting her to give him a high five and smiles when she slaps her tiny palm against his own. 

Izzy grumbles, “I see how it is. Ganging up on me, the two of you.”

“We just know who the real superstars are in this room,” says Alec. “Madz, come and help me with these socks. Tie the ends together so one doesn’t get lost without the other. You can be an example for Aunt Izzy, who’s done nothing for the entire twenty minutes she’s been here. We can finish that book together before bedtime.”

“Okay,” says Madzie agreeably, grabbing her book and scrambling onto the bed. She’s wearing pink and green pajamas that make her look like a particularly cute watermelon, and she lets out a happy little squeal when Izzy shoots up and smothers her in a hug, squeezing her tight and rubbing her face against Madzie’s hair.

“Alec!” she screams between bouts of giggles. “Alec, help!”

Alec just shakes his head, throwing a pair of Madzie’s freshly laundered blue tights at Izzy’s head which doesn’t deter his sister in the slightest.

While the two of them goof off, Alec finishes pairing up Madzie’s socks himself. He wouldn’t have it any other way though, and after, when Izzy finally hops off to go file her mission report, he quietly says, “Thanks for hanging out, Iz.”

“Don’t be weird, Alec,” says Izzy, but her words are warm. “You still want to meet at Dad’s office after Madzie’s asleep? To go over the updates on Rouse?”

“Yeah,” says Alec. He feels the corners of his mouth tighten. “Maybe in half an hour. I’ll come find you.”

Half an hour is usually how long it takes to settle Madzie into bed. Her room – which is stuffed to the brim with picture books and teddy bears and an obscenely expensive train set Madzie got attached to from their trip to the Lego Store – is the one next to Alec’s, joined together by a shared bathroom. Madzie has a thing where she doesn’t care about brushing her teeth unless Alec’s also brushing next to her and she makes a game out of who cleans their teeth the best, the fastest. Alec tried explaining the nuances of dental hygiene to her during her first week at the Institute, but her blank stare resulted in him changing tactics soon enough. 

So now they have a routine: Madzie uses the bathroom, Alec makes sure she washed her hands before _he_ uses the bathroom, brush together, bicker over which book to read. She’s usually in bed by ten, and then Alec has a couple hours to get some more work crammed in before passing out around one.

“This time, the Angel heard Fiona’s wish,” reads Alec, finishing the story from where he’s sitting at the foot of her bed. “And for the first time ever in Alicante, it snowed in June. The end.”

“Yay!” cheers Madzie, clapping her hands from where she’s tucked cozily into bed. Alec’s smile is a helpless thing. She’s adorable. Curiously, she asks, “Do you like snow, Alec?”

“I love it,” says Alec, and means it. He sets down the book on the ground so he can lean toward her conspiratorially. “When we were little, Iz and I used to make snow angels and go sledding and afterward when Jace started living with us – we’d have the greatest snowball fights.” 

“Ooh,” says Madzie, looking intrigued. “Sounds fun.”

“Too bad it doesn’t snow in June outside of storybooks, huh?” They would need to do another round of shopping before it gets cold, thinks Alec. She’s getting too tall for the stuff they salvaged out of Iris Rouse’s house. They’ll need snow pants and boots and mittens once winter rolls around. Madzie’s something of a blossoming thrill seeker, which makes Alec feel a complicated mix of worry and delight, and Alec just knows that she’s going to love speeding down a steep, snowy hill in a toboggan. “But we can do all of that once winter–”

He cuts himself off when he feels a whisper of something fall on the back of his hand.

Some disbelieving part of Alec knows what’s happening even before he looks up to find the wisps of grey clouds forming above the bed. Madzie is absently rotating her wrists, sparks of white magic at her fingertips. When Alec blows out a breath, he sees it mist in front of him from the chill that’s fallen in Madzie’s room. 

This can’t be something that even practiced warlocks can do so easily. Changing the atmosphere in the room, gathering condensation from who knows where – the skill and focus it must take, and here Madzie is, the magic inside of her seemingly just responding to whatever she wants. And what she wants right now is to give Alec snow, all because he said he liked it. 

The sweetness that crawls up Alec’s chest has an ache to it. It robs the air from his lungs, makes his knees and elbows weak. He loves her so damn much that it could break his heart from the severity of its weight if it wasn’t the very thing holding it all together.

“Wow,” he says, voice cracking. “That’s amazing, Madz.” He can hear his awe colour his words. Madzie’s answering beam is swallowed up by a yawn, and that awe inside of Alec doesn’t quite go away, but it yields for tenderness to flood in as well. “You’re really something special.”

“It’s just magic! Can’t you do magic, Alec?” asks Madzie and for a split second, Alec is struck silent.

That split second is all he gives himself. He slowly exhales before saying, “No, I can’t do magic like you can. Only other warlocks have magic, and I’m not a warlock. Do you remember what I am?”

“Shadowhunter,” says Madzie brightly. She taps the mark for strength branded into Alec’s bicep. “With runes.”

“That’s right. And you’re a warlock. A _sorceress_.” He pauses for a moment before asking, “Madzie, do you want to play using magic sometimes?”

“We always play magic, Alec.”

She probably means how she uses her magic to do little things like turn on the lights and find her favourite scrunchie when it’s lost (which is often).

“I mean with someone else who can do magic with you,” says Alec gently. Guilt starts to claw at him. Madzie has been here for almost four months, and Alec may be taking her to the playground and watching her make friends with the mundane kids there, he may be helping her with her letters and numbers and making sure she eats her vegetables – but Madzie is a _warlock._ There are other parts of her that she has no knowledge of, things Alec isn’t the right teacher for. _Can’t_ be the right teacher for, no matter how much he tries.

“Nana played with magic,” says Madzie, brows scrunching together. “And Nana’s – Nana’s bad.” 

It’s amazing how it takes less than a minute for that horrible guilt to turn into an unsettled anger.

“But magic isn’t bad,” says Alec tightly, and Madzie looks doubtful. 

“But you don’t have magic,” she responds, with the frankness only children can truly muster. “And you’re nice.”

Fuck, thinks Alec. Has she been thinking– “Magic’s not bad,” he repeats firmly. “Sometimes people might use it for bad things, but it can be fun and useful like anything else. You know how I know? Because you’ve got magic inside of you, and you’re the nicest, funnest, smartest, best person I’ve ever met. There’s absolutely nothing bad about you.”

He sweeps her into a hug, squeezes his eyes shut at the feel of her small hands clutching at his shoulders. All at once, Alec remembers how different it had felt hugging her for the first time. She’d been smaller, slighter. Refusing to let go of him and hiding her face in his neck as he said, “I don’t care what the Warlock Council says – we can’t just send her to the Silent Brothers.”

To think that this little girl – _his_ little girl – has been thinking that there must be something wrong with her. Because she’s been surrounded by people who are different than her, and the only person she knows that had been magical like her is Iris Rouse, even worse than all the criminals Alec has put away in his career.

“All right,” says Alec, decision made. “We’ll just have to find some nice friends who can do magic to play with us, don’t we?” He presses a kiss to Madzie’s temple. “Let’s put away the cold and the clouds and go to sleep. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

“Okay,” agrees Madzie, sounding perfectly happy. “Night, Alec.” 

The knot in Alec’s stomach doesn’t ease even when she hugs him one more time before turning in for the night. He frowns down at the book they were reading together – at the beautiful depiction of the glass city, one where Madzie will never be able to step into – and it takes a lot more effort than it normally does to smile at her as he walks out, turning off the lights. 

-

 

Iris Rouse’s operation had been running in New York for over four years before the Institute dismantled it. It makes Alec sick to think about it, about the dozen confused kids and their terrified mothers that had to be transitioned back to their mundane lives. Shadowhunters might be useful in killing demons and breaking apart what is essentially a human trafficking ring, but they were useless in the aftermath. If it wasn’t for Luke Garroway in the NYPD facilitating the involvement of mundane professionals dealing with this kind of tragedy, Alec doesn’t know what would’ve happened.

Alec had been firm that no child that still had a surviving mother would be separated from her. It turned out that after the first fatal trial – with Laura Henderson, Madzie’s birth mother – Rouse had perfected the potion enough that all the other mothers survived the birth. From everything Alec has gathered about the operation, Rouse had been the closest to Madzie for that reason. When she had fled, she had even tried to take Madzie with her.

“Madzie, hurry up, sweetheart, come with Nana,” Rouse had said, holding out an arm toward Madzie even with one foot already into the swirling, golden portal. Alec thinks there had been genuine grief lining her face at the thought of having to leave Madzie behind. “We have to leave now.”

The fact that Madzie had stopped when Alec had shouted, “Madzie, no–” as he ran after them in the hallway, a sinking feeling in his stomach – he had thought that it was sheer dumb luck that had stopped Madzie in her tracks. Her getting surprised by the sound of someone yelling for her. Only later had he let himself think about the miracle of his instantaneous connection with Madzie. That tug at his heart the second he laid eyes on her and the gills she had obscured under her scarf. Only later had he let himself think that it had been mutual. 

That some part of Madzie felt that, too.

It’s been months since that raid, and Alec’s rereading the useless report from the Paris Institute Izzy had given him the run down on. Even from his bed in New York, an entire ocean away, he can tell that it’s obviously a ruse. People on the run don’t return to familiar places , and the fact that Rouse was spotted in _le Marais_ where she spent years in during the 50s, has warlocks loyal to her still littered around the city who would be able to replicate her special brand of magic – Alec knows a red herring when faced with one.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters, throwing the papers down on his bed and pressing the bridge of his nose to push back an impending headache. He needs to sleep. Or he needs to go to the training room and beat up a punching bag, pretend its Rouse’s–

Every thought flees Alec’s brain when he hears Madzie start to scream. 

Alec moves on instinct, fear and adrenaline pushing him faster than any rune for speed. He runs for her room, and to his panic, finds that it’s been sealed shut. The sliver of space bordering the door is glowing with Madzie’s white magic.

“No!” Madzie is shouting. “I don’t wanna! I don’t wanna–”

Alec takes a second to make sure he sounds calm before calling out to her.

It doesn’t work.

“Madzie!” He tries to knock, but his shaking hands curl into fists without him noticing. The knocks end up being bangs, and the voice he tries to make steady comes out as a desperate yell. “Madzie, it’s Alec! It’s Alec, please – please let me in.”

“Alec!” he hears Madzie sobbing. “Alec, I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna go with Nana, I wanna stay with y–”

What?

But even as the cold claws of panic wrap around his spine, Alec knows that can’t be it. Something else is happening here. Rouse wouldn’t be able to get through the Institute’s wards, and the magic keeping the room sealed shut is Madzie’s. He can feel it.

Swallowing against his dry throat, Alec says, voice cracking, “You don’t have to go anywhere, Madz, I promise. No one’s gonna make you go anywhere. Just please, let me in, Madzie. I want to come to you. I don’t want to let you go.”

Alec can physically feel a shift in the air when the door unlocks. He immediately slams it open, but what Alec sees has his blood run cold. Inside the room, Madzie’s surrounded in a vortex of her electric white magic. The light of it casts an eerie glow over the dark room, and Alec feels his eyes sting from the harsh brightness of it. But he doesn’t look away – because even from the doorway Alec can see her looking at him with wet, terrified eyes.

Pretending that his fear didn’t just go up a notch, Alec carefully walks toward her. Her magic feels scorching where it grazes his skin, and it’s no more painful than the burn of a stele to draw his runes. 

“Alec,” she sobs as he nears. She repeats the same confusing, terrifying thing she had been screaming before: “I don’t wanna go.”

Kneeling down on the ground beside here, Alec says, “You’re not going anywhere, Madz.”

“But Nana – Nana–”

At the end, all he has to do is take her hand before she’s throwing herself onto his chest. He tries to be careful in wrapping his arms around her but the weight of his relief breaks his restraint and he ends up clutching her tight, with all his strength. The force of it seems to reel the magic back inside of Madzie until eventually, there is no glow left. Only Alec and Madzie holding each other in the otherwise deafening silence of the room, save for the hitches of Madzie’s breathing and Alec murmuring, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” into her hair. 

She’s drenched in sweat. From up close, Alec can also tell that she’s wet the bed – something that hasn’t happened once since Madzie came to live with him. He can feel the fluttering beats of Madzie’s little heart even with the pounding of his own inside of his chest. 

It might have been night terrors or a regular run-of-the-mill nightmare, but Alec doesn’t think so. Could a nightmare really have caused such a reaction? As Alec’s eyes adjust to the darkness, to the dim lights filtering in through the window, he can see black scorch marks along the walls, the ceiling. Being Max’s big brother may have taught Alec how to soothe him after nightmares and hide the evidence from their parents, how to best teach incredibly clever, easily distractible kids how to add numbers, how to provide comfort with hugs – but what does Alec know about _this?_

But right now, he doesn’t need to know about all of that. All Alec has to do is hold her, and so he does, until she starts to relax against him.

The blood is still rushing through Alec’s head. His own heart hasn’t slowed down to a resting pace and when Alec is overwhelmed with panic, unable to process what’s happening around him – he defaults into what he _does_ understand: small, discrete, productive tasks with his hands and feet. 

The big picture – the big picture can wait for a minute.

“Let’s get cleaned up, huh?” he whispers. Madzie doesn’t let go of him, so he hoists her up and carries her to the bathroom. She keeps her eyes hidden against his shoulder, to protect them from the harshness of the fluorescent lights. “It’s a little bit late to take a bath, but we’ll be quick.”

It’s the fastest, most miserable bath Alec has given her and lasts less than five minutes. Madzie is quiet, responding to his pathetic attempts to keep a conversation – “Does the water feel nice?”, and, “It’s pretty spooky to be up so late” – with nods and one word answers. But he can’t bring himself to stop. Alec may not be a particularly talkative person, but the thought of letting the room descend into silence and not giving Madzie sounds to focus on to keep her distracted from what just happened – that’s just not an option.

Keeping himself focused on the task at hand so that he doesn’t succumb to the confusion and terror and frustration inside of him – well, the opposite isn’t an option, either.

She seems better after the bath, wrapped up in her huge, fluffy green towel. She still doesn’t want to leave Alec and with her desperate screams of, _I don’t wanna go, Alec_ ringing in Alec’s head, Alec doesn’t want to leave her, either. 

Back in Alec’s room where he settles her in for the night in fresh pajamas, he watches her as she leans back against the headboard and guzzles down half the water from Alec’s water bottle, probably not having realized how much she had drained herself. She has to use both hands to hold on to it. She’s so _small_.

“You feeling better?”

“My head hurts.”

“It should go away after you get some sleep,” he says quietly. She nods, tired, and wiggles around until she’s back underneath her blanket. She doesn’t loosen her hold around the two of Alec’s fingers she’s got a tight grip on. “Can you tell me what happened? Did you have a bad dream?” 

“Nana was in my dream,” is Madzie’s quiet reply.

He had come to that conclusion on his own a while back. And yet there’s something strange and ugly and hollow inside of Alec as he says, “D’you miss Nana, Madzie?”

“Yes,” says Madzie, and the single word is a seraph blade into Alec’s heart. But then Madzie starts to cry again, and he realizes he has no idea what he had been talking about. _This_ is so much worse. “But I wanna stay with you.”

“You can stay with me as long as you want,” says Alec, voice hoarse. He still doesn’t understand what this means, but he knows that part to be true. “And I want to stay with you. Bad dreams can’t hurt you in real life, I promise.”

“Nana says – Nana was telling me to go find her,” whispers Madzie, eyes wide. “She says she’ll find me and we’re gonna run away together.”

A shiver runs down Alec’s spine. “No one’s running away with you, Madz.” He kisses the top of her damp hair. “Why don’t you close those eyes and get some rest? Everything will seem less scary in the morning.”

He holds on to her hand until she falls asleep. Any and all tiredness he had been feeling earlier has vanished. Instead Alec just stares at Madzie’s tiny form, thinks about the snow she had made for him just hours earlier, looks at the marks of her magic left on his arms. Mundane women have to go through with their warlock children what Alec just did, except that they’re even less prepared than he had been: they don’t even know what they’re dealing with. They don’t know the truth about magic and demons and angels.

Knowing there’s no way he’ll be sleeping tonight, Alec goes to Madzie’s room to strip the bed of the ruined sheets and throw everything in the laundry. The second he steps inside, however, a cold realization runs though him: he has to glamour Madzie’s room until he can figure out how to clean the electric burns along the walls or paint atop it. There’s no way the Clave will just roll their eyes and let the Lightwood boy keep fostering an orphaned warlock girl if they get a hint of this. 

And Alec – Alec can’t shake the feeling that this is something more than a nightmare. To search for a warlock to help Madzie practice her magic no longer feels like something that can wait for the morning.

-

 

Catarina Loss is one of the leading experts in healing magic and happens to live right here in New York. In a fire message, he had written about his and Madzie’s situation – _I’m Alec Lightwood, acting Head of the New York Institute. I’ve been taking care of Madzie, a young warlock girl, for the last few months, and I believe her magic is reacting negatively to her past trauma. I would greatly appreciate any assistance you can provide. To provide some context: back in March, the Institute dismantled an illegal operation running out of Brooklyn where fugitive Iris Rouse has been kidnapping mundane women in order to create warlocks. There were nine children overall..._ – and although it had probably been a bad idea to send that at four in the morning, he’d received a reply back just an hour later.

Alec takes Madzie to see her that same afternoon. 

Madzie, being the independent young lady that she is, rarely feels the need to hold onto Alec’s hand when they walk outside. She used to do it all the time at the beginning – and sometimes still does when confronted with unfamiliar faces – but ever since she and Alec established a routine at the Institute, she’s settled into her skin as a fearless, curious little warlock. Alec is relieved to see Madzie’s adventurous spirit back in place when she woke up today. Kids are strange, resilient beings, and Alec has never been so grateful for it.

“So we’re going to someone’s house?” asks Madzie, skipping ahead of him in the sidewalk. Alec doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to mundanes’ careless gazes running over him, but it’s better when he has Madzie to focus on.

“You remember how we were talking yesterday about finding some warlock friends?” At Madzie’s enthusiastic nod, Alec says, “Well, we’re going to go meet someone who I think might want to hang out with us. Not at her house though since we’re not friends yet.”

“Strangers,” says Madzie knowingly.

“Exactly,” says Alec, smiling. And while Alec certainly understands why Catarina wouldn’t want to meet at her home or at the Institute, he doesn’t know how he feels about having this meeting at Pandemonium. Actually, he does know how he feels: annoyed. This place might not be a nightclub during, well, the daytime, but Alec doesn’t want Madzie near this kind of establishment no matter what time of the day it is. She’s only _five_. He probably won’t want her here even when she’s twenty-five, but that’s a problem for the future.

But Alec doesn’t have any other options. He certainly doesn’t know what other location he could suggest that would give them the space and the privacy to explore what happened with Madzie’s magic last night. He supposes it makes sense that downworlders would use this building as an... office space of sorts during business hours – after all, every New Yorker who knows about the Shadow World knows about Pandemonium for one reason or another. Certainly Izzy and Jace go there for entirely different reasons than Alec is heading there now.

Deciding that he’ll just take Madzie and walk out of there if he comes across something clearly illegal – before sending someone over to shut whatever it is down – Alec makes his way into the empty nightclub.

Upon pushing the door open however, Alec quickly realizes that Catarina Loss isn’t the only person waiting for him. 

Alec freezes in his tracks. 

He recognizes the figure, of course. Magnus Bane is Brooklyn’s High Warlock who, according to the Institute’s records, has been on leave from the city for the past year. Brooklyn’s very old, very powerful High Warlock. 

But at this moment, when actually faced with him, the only word Alec can use to describe the man is stunning. 

Magnus Bane is _stunning._ He looks like a fucking work of art. And whatever it is that he inspires in Alec hits him with the force of two clashing swords, as sudden and unavoidable as a summer storm. His eyes are bright and covered in a shimmering ash, and his Adam’s apple is so prominent that Alec can see the harsh jut of it from ten feet away. He can feel the phantom press of it against his dry tongue, taste the salt, the softness of skin. The sunlight that streams in through the vaulted windows and past the beams criss-crossing the ceiling makes the warm brown of his skin glow. And Alec–

Alec can’t look away from him. It’s as though he’s under a spell. Magnus’ arms are crossed across his broad chest, his long fingers are adorned with ornate rings and tipped in black. The way that the golden light is drawn to him, wraps around him, is reflecting off the cuff of his ear makes Alec think, for one ludicrous second, that the vision is just that – a vision. As though Alec’s mind is under siege and the caster of this spell has dove deep into the darkest, most secret corners of Alec and pulled out whatever was there – all the things he can never let himself have, especially after Madzie – and deposited him in this empty nightclub in Brooklyn in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon.

Only Madzie clutching at Alec’s leg and trying to hide behind it keeps him tethered. From being swept away by _what,_ exactly – Alec can’t even begin to guess.

Alec swallows, throat dry and pulse racing just at the sight of him. It’s fine, he thinks. Twenty-three years of being able to pack away desire at a moment’s notice – Alec is fine. 

Even if it’s the first time that someone’s caught him looking. The first time someone’s looked back at him.

“Well, I’ll be,” murmurs Catarina, looking wonderingly at Madzie. Her voice startles Alec back to himself, and his arm goes instinctively around Madzie’s shoulder. “You really _are_ taking care of a little warlock.”

“Yes, this is – this is Madzie,” says Alec, tearing his eyes away from Magnus and looking down at Madzie. Somewhat brusquely, he says, “This was supposed to be a private meeting.”

“Well,” says Catarina, completely unfazed. “Once I made it known to Magnus why I needed to use Pandemonium to meet with a shadowhunter – and a Lightwood, at that – he insisted on being present. If I’d known this was all it would take to get him back to New York...”

Madzie is tugging at Alec’s hand. “Alec,” she says. “When are we playing?”

And at that, Alec takes a deep breath and tries to squash away everything else. This is about Madzie. Catarina looks at him in question and when Alec nods, she walks over to the two of them. Alec had explained in his follow-up message last night how he had explained things to Madzie. That even before the incident last night, Alec had been looking for someone to help Madzie with her magic. 

“Hi there, little miss,” she says warmly. She holds out a hand toward Madzie, and Alec releases the breath he hadn’t realized he had been reining in. “I’m Catarina, and that back there is my friend Magnus.” 

“Hello,” greets Magnus, gaze growing soft in a way that only children can inspire in the hearts of complete strangers. His voice is gentle and while he waves at her, he doesn’t step closer. As though not to overwhelm Madzie. 

“I hear you’re looking for some warlock friends?” continues Catarina.

“Uhmm,” says Madzie, suddenly shy. She looks to Alec for help. 

Kneeling down next to Madzie, he says, “Catarina has magic like you, Madzie. D’you want to say hi and show her some of the cool stuff you can do?” 

Madzie looks uncertain. He realizes it’s probably too broad an instruction for her.

“How about I show you something I can do first?” suggests Catarina apparently coming to the same conclusion as Alec and with a twist of her wrist she has a glowing white ball of magic on the palm of her hand. Madzie gasps. “It’s like looking at a star up close, isn’t it?”

“Uh huh,” says Madzie, and when Alec squeezes her shoulder encouragingly, she goes up to Catarina and takes the ball from her, cradling it in her tiny hands. 

Alec frowns when Catarina’s eyebrows shoot up. 

“Wow,” she says. “How do you know how to do that, Madzie?” When Madzie just shrugs, Catarina hums thoughtfully. “Can you show me something else you can do? What did you use your magic for today?”

Catarina is very good at this. And even though Alec has absolutely nothing to do with Madzie’s magical talents, he can’t help but feel pride in her when she turns on the flashing strobe lights with just a wave of her hand and summons a clean glass from behind the bar. Alec knows next to nothing about magic, but he knows with certainty that Madzie’s in the ninety-ninth percentile of five year-old warlocks. When Madzie says, “I made snow for Alec yesterday,” the tenderness that hits him isn’t anything new, but he’s still helpless against its ferocity.

Alec startles when he feels a phantom whisper of _Alexander,_ caress his ear. 

A shiver travels down his spine. It feels almost like a warm spring breeze, one that seems to affect nothing else except a few locks of Alec’s hair. Something other than instinct compels him to look at Magnus and when he does, Magnus is looking right at him.

And discreetly gesturing Alec toward him with one hand.

With Madzie chatting happily, if a little shyly, with Catarina, Alec slowly gets to his feet. This time there is no magic curling around the shell of his ear, but goosebumps still break across Alec’s skin just the same when he gets closer to Magnus. He notices the little flecks of gold lining the bottom of his eyes.

Alec has to clear his throat before he can speak. “Yeah?”

“We haven’t been properly introduced,” says Magnus, extending an arm toward Alec. The way he’s smiling at him– “I’m Magnus. And you’re Alexander Lightwood, of course.”

“Yeah,” says Alec. “Yeah, uh, that’s me. Most people just call me Alec.” Magnus has a strong grip as he shakes Alec’s hand. Based on the way the dark red sleeves of Magnus’ shirt is clinging to his biceps, Alec’s not surprised. “Did you call me over to–”

“Just to say hello?” finishes Magnus wryly. Put like that, it sounds stupid and Alec’s face grows hot. Of course that wouldn’t be the reason. 

And yet Magnus sounds thoughtful when he says, “Hmm, if it was two in the morning at Pandemonium instead of two in the afternoon then the answer to that would be yes.”

That’s – not what Alec expected. His eyes dart back toward Madzie, a safe focus for his attention as he wonders what the appropriate response is – but Magnus must notice because the next time he speaks, his tone is much more sombre. 

“Actually, it’s about your – er, your Madzie.” Alec’s gaze snaps back to him. He’s no longer smiling at Alec in that alarmingly inviting way. His voice is low. “In your letter to Catarina last night, you said that you think her trauma while she was with Rouse was giving her nightmares and affecting her magic.” 

He pauses, and when Alec confirms with a slow nod, he continues, “I’ve been running diagnostics on Madzie while she’s been showing Catarina what she can do and – can you describe to me exactly what happened?”

An uneasy knot forms in Alec’s stomach. “Why?”

“So I can understand the situation before coming to any conclusions.” 

Magnus means what he says, because he looks intently at Alec while Alec explains Madzie’s magic going haywire last night, the way she’d been calling out for her Nana. 

“She’s been with me for almost four months and it’s the first time something like this happened,” he says lowly. “It didn’t feel right to wait and see if it happened again.”

“You made the right call,” says Magnus, glancing at Madzie. “Her magic isn’t going out of control. There’s a spell on her.”

Alec freezes. “ _What?_ ”

“The spell’s power is concentrated around her head,” murmurs Magnus. “If I’m reading this correctly, Madzie didn’t have a nightmare about Rouse so much as Rouse directly visited her dreams. And when you’re in someone’s unconscious… well, you can compel all sorts of actions from them.” 

“No,” says Alec, shaking his head. This makes – this makes no sense. “Madzie’s just a kid. And Rouse cared about her.”

But even as he says this, doubt starts to crawl up his spine. Alec had always wondered about his and Madzie’s first meeting, those weeks before the raid on Rouse’s home. How she hadn’t spoken but she’d smiled at him when he complimented her gills and asked for a high five. How she’d hugged his leg and asked, “Come back?” when he walked out.

“About her or her power?” Magnus’ voice is gentle. “Surely you must know that Madzie’s aptitude with magic is... it’s uncommon. Exceptional.”

“Madzie is exceptional,” stresses Alec. He sounds snappish – accusing – but he barely notices. There’s strange noise building in his ears, a pressure building in his chest, a lump building in his throat. “Are you telling me that all this time, there’s been some kind of – magical tracking chip in Madzie? That lets Rouse go around the Institute’s wards and into her _head_ and–”

“Alexander.” The touch at Alec’s wrist stops him short. On instinct he takes a step back, trying to get control over his breathing. 

Magnus slowly draws his hand back. The sting of disappointment that pricks at Alec is unfamiliar – there has never been anything to regret, to miss, before right now – but thankfully, short-lived. He looks to Madzie, who has moved further into the wide expanse of Pandemonium’s floor with Catarina. There are snowflakes drifting around her. 

By the Angel, he’d been on the verge of _shouting_. But even now he can’t help it – there’s a _spell_ on Madzie. An unlocked door for Iris Rouse to walk into her mind. Alec is sick thinking about it. How many nights has he looked at Madzie sleeping soundly and absently hoping she’d been having good dreams? How many of those nights had Rouse been there as well, with last night being the first time that something went wrong, went too far?

“The good news is that we know about it,” says Magnus, and his voice brings Alec back. “And we can work on fixing it.”

“Yeah,” says Alec, taking a deep breath. Knowledge, information – that’s always the first step. “Yes, of course. You’re right. Do you think you can do it? Remove the spell on Madzie?”

That smile is back on Magnus’ face, and as a natural response, the circuitry of Alec’s neural pathways shuts down for a quick second. 

“Of course,” he says dismissively. “They didn’t make me the High Warlock for nothing. But it’s notoriously difficult to break another warlock’s spell, and Iris Rouse is nearly as old and almost as powerful as I am. It’s not something that can be done with just a snap of my fingers. My very talented fingers, mind you.”

Alec feels his face flush even as he nods. He figured it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“And if it helps with finding Rouse,” continues Magnus, grimly. “Then that’s all the better.”

“You want to help in the Rouse investigation?” Alec can’t help but sound surprised. 

“Of course I do,” says Magnus, sounding almost insulted. “She had been running that – that horrific experiment out of _my territory._ I have a responsibility to those mothers and children. If I had been here when the raid took place, I can guarantee you that she wouldn’t have escaped.”

 _Then where were you?_ the question burns in Alec’s mind. Lorenzo Rey, the Acting High Warlock, had been pointedly unhelpful. When the Institute had reached out more officially to the Warlock Council after the incident, they had told Alec that the nephilim should fulfill their self-appointed obligation of resolving inter-species disputes. Of catching criminals of the Shadow World who broke the Accords.

Alec remembers feeling both angry and devastated; disbelieving. How could they not care about what happened to their own children? The future of their kind? He doesn’t understand it. Magnus and Catarina are certainly looking at Madzie with affection, but Alec had always been taught that warlocks are solitary creatures, a result of their immortality. His experience with the Warlock Council only reinforced that understanding. 

Maybe he misunderstood. If Magnus had been there and actually gave a shit about what happened to the kids, then Madzie might not be with him now. Alec looks at her, and Madzie just so happens to catch his eyes at the same moment and gives him that sweet, toothy grin. One that pulls a helpless smile from Alec. 

No matter how or why it happened, Alec knows that he doesn’t want a life without her. 

“No point getting caught up in what-ifs,” says Alec at last. “But if you can help Madzie and want to help track down Rouse – I’m not gonna say no to that.” 

-

 

Eventually, Magnus and Catarina switch spots. Magnus is supposed to be running more diagnostics, but he seems to instead be... showing off? Madzie gasps and claps in delight when he shoots out a fiery dragon to the ceiling from the palm of his hand which disperses into an elaborate burst of fireworks. Catarina has to place a hand on Alec’s arm to stop him from running over there and covering Madzie from the sparks.

“Relax,” she says. “Magnus might be flashy, but he’s the best warlock you’ll find around. Nothing’s going to happen to her. He’s just putting on a show.” She doesn’t finish the sentence with, _for you_ , but Alec hears it nonetheless, reads it in her raised eyebrows.

It makes Alec’s face grow hot. 

“Uh, okay.” It takes more effort than he expected to take his eyes off the two of them to focus on Catarina instead. It doesn’t matter, he reminds himself. It can’t matter. He can’t do anything that would take the Institute away from him – take _Madzie_ away from him.

Shaking his head, Alec asks, “Will you be able to help her?”

Catarina looks surprised. “Magnus is the better cursebreaker. He’s more than enough to have on your payroll for this sort of thing.”

“That’s not the only reason I sent that message last night.” Alec looks at Madzie, and for the thousandth time since last night, Alec remembers Madzie saying _can’t you do magic, Alec?_ “Madzie – she’s a warlock. She has magic. And for her entire life she’s either been living with a psychopath or in a building full of shadowhunters. She needs to be around people who can–”

Alec stops, not sure how to explain it. All he knows is that as someone who is intimately familiar with loneliness from the knowledge that there’s something different about him, something wrong – he never wants Madzie to think that way. Not when the thing that makes her different isn’t actually wrong in any way.

Catarina seems to get the gist of it, though. “You want to hire a teacher for her?”

“Yes,” says Alec, relieved. “And – and I wanted to find friends for her, I guess. I don’t know where to find other warlock kids. The others from Rouse’s–” Alec can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He gives himself a second and starts anew: “Those mothers don’t remember, and none of them were born with any obvious marks. It might be years before the family and the kids figure it out.”

“Our children don’t really have friends of our kind, not those of the same young age,” says Catarina, something sad in her eyes. “In a way we’re grateful that they’re so rare to find. You know how we come into this world, Mr. Lightwood. It’s nothing good. Most of us don’t even have guardians who know what we are and want us anyway. In that regard, your Madzie is leagues ahead of what Magnus or I ever experienced.”

Alec doesn’t know what to say to such an awful admission and so he stays quiet. 

Catarina doesn’t seem to be finished speaking, however. “Why did you take her in?”

Frowning, Alec asks, “What d’you mean?”

“I know from your letter how Madzie came across your path,” says Catarina. “But not what led to you deciding to be her caretaker. Most young men wouldn’t choose to take on such a responsibility, and looking after a child isn’t something that can be done half-heartedly.”

“What are you implying, exactly?” Alec can feel his back stiffening, his tone turning hostile. This is starting to sound uncomfortably familiar with the conversation he had with his mother. If Catarina Loss is trying to say–

“That I want to understand what exactly a shadowhunter – a very young, ambitious shadowhunter who is the acting Head of an Institute – is doing. Taking in a small warlock child as his daughter and providing a home for her when I can see the Clave’s work drilled into him in the way he stands and speaks and conducts himself.” 

Catarina shakes her head, as though in disbelieving wonder. She doesn’t have to say, _what’s the catch?_ for Alec to hear it. The anger that had been growing inside of Alec with every word from Catarina is rapidly pushing out all capacity of rational thought. How dare she. Alec doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone except for Madzie. She’s the only person who can demand anything from him when it comes to her wellbeing. Everyone else lost the right to question or understand their relationship when they turned away from a child who needed them.

Why did Alec take her in? The answer to Catarina’s question has a simple answer: because Madzie needed him, wanted him, and he wanted her right back. It hadn’t been a choice so much as an instinctive response. There was no way he could leave a little girl who grew up in a haunted house, who smiled when he complimented her gills, to grow up in the Silent City. Maybe it would’ve been different if there were more children – if he didn’t have to worry about the weight of loneliness crushing her five year-old heart when he looked at her. How she’d exhausted herself crying the first night she was here. How she kept asking for Rouse. 

How she’d gone quiet when he said, “Your Nana... she did some bad things, Madzie. And she’s in trouble, and people in trouble aren’t allowed to be with you.”

How she’d replied, “You didn’t do bad things, did you?” 

“I – I don’t know,” Alec had said, unable to lie to her. The disappointment in Madzie’s eyes had seemed like the worst consequence in Alec’s long history with failure. He had only just known her for a scant handful of hours, but already he knew he never wanted her to look at him like that again. 

He’d taken her hand and said, “But I’ll try to be the best person I can, so I never get in the kind of trouble that’ll take me away from you.”

“Promise?” 

“By the angel, Madzie,” Alec had said, words barely forming around the horrible lump in his throat. “Of course. Of course I promise.”

But no one else has rights to that story. Not unless Alec wants to share it. Certainly not someone that Alec has met less than an hour ago.

He steps away from Catarina. “We’re done with this." 

“Excuse me?” For the first time today, Catarina looks truly shocked. “Did I misjudge you that much? Are you really about to walk away from the best course of action for your daughter because I asked you something you didn’t like?”

“I’m not walking away,” says Alec, voice sharp. “But I don’t owe you any explanations except that I want what’s best for Madzie. I thought you were it. If that’s not enough for you to do with business with me, then I’ll figure something else out.”

As if anything would get in the way of Alec wanting to take care of Madzie – his family – much less something as inconsequential as his pride. Alec’s used to being second-guessed and underestimated, and nothing would get done if he let the sting of it stop him from doing what he needed to do. 

All that happened is that Alec was reminded that these aren’t people he can forget himself around. He’s frustrated at himself for doing so, for getting caught up in Madzie’s enthusiasm and believing that there was such a tidy solution for Madzie’s needs. Nothing is ever that neat.

Catarina is still looking at him, and there is something critical in her gaze. Alec holds his ground, and–

“That’s fair enough,” she says at last. “My questions weren’t an attack, and answers to them aren’t a prerequisite to me accepting your offer. I’ve seen enough to know that you were sincere in seeking out help.”

“What?” That’s not what he expected. “Does that mean…?”

“That little girl has an eternity left to live ahead of her,” she murmurs in answer. “It’s criminal so few of us get to start off on such a journey with guidance from those who came first. It’s my privilege to help her.”

This is _definitely_ not how Alec thought this would go after he refused to answer Catarina’s questions. And even though he had meant it when he said he wouldn’t rest until he found someone else if Catarina didn’t want to do this, he’s glad that he doesn’t have to.

Relieved, but not sure how to react, Alec finally settles with a, “Thank you, it’ll mean a lot for her.” 

“I’ll get in touch about setting up times,” says Catarina. “I work as a nurse at a mundane hospital, so my hours change from week to week.”

Alec nods, but Madzie’s voice draws his attention away from Catarina.

“Alec!” Madzie is running toward him lightning fast, and it makes her stumble a little as she tries to skid to a halt just inches away from Alec’s feet. Thankfully, Alec’s used to this kind of manic energy from her and scoops her up right before she crashes into him. “Alec, look what Magnus showed me to do–”

“You gotta slow down before you get hurt there, speedy,” reprimands Alec as he sets her down on her feet. “What did Magnus show you?” 

In the brief second that Alec glances at Magnus, he gives Alec a sheepish shrug – and then Madzie takes one of Alec’s hands between each of her smaller ones. She screws up her eyes in concentration, and Alec can’t tell exactly when she does what she does but when Madzie opens her eyes again a second later, she beams at him. 

“Now your hands are pretty,” explains Madzie, and when Alec looks down at the hand she’d been holding, he sees that his fingernails are a painted a bright aqua. Madzie’s favourite colour, and it matches her own nails. It’s not as shockingly impressive as the snowfall she conjured last night, but what strikes Alec is that the aqua is perfectly contained in the borders of his nails. Madzie can’t keep between the lines when she’s filling in her colouring books, but this magic – it’s natural for her. She doesn’t need to learn it with the effort she has to give to learn how to hold a crayon. 

“Do you like them?” 

“Love them,” confirms Alec, crouching down to be at level with her. _Love you,_ he thinks. He wiggles his other hand toward her. “But what about this one?”

Madzie happily does the same to his other hand. 

“That’s perfect,” he says sincerely. “Aunt Izzy will be so jealous when she sees us. We have to start heading out though – are you ready?”

Alec can see the exact second that Madzie’s face transitions from joy to complete despair. He might as well have told her the world was ending, he thinks, trying not to smile. And even that probably wouldn’t have had such a response.

“Noooo,” whines Madzie, clutching at his leg. “Can we please-please-please play more? I wanna make Cat’s hands pretty too.”

Catarina coughs into her hand, and it sounds far too much like she’s hiding a laugh. 

“Catarina and Magnus have to go home now,” says Alec, and hopes they have the common sense to play along. “But you can show what you can do next time, okay? You’ll see them again soon, I promise.” 

He’s going to make sure of it.

-

 

He ends up seeing Magnus sooner than he expected. 

Which is to say he’s there in Izzy’s lab the next afternoon. It has Alec halting in his tracks. His back is to Alec, but there’s no way of mistaking those shoulders as anybody else’s. Alec had spent far too long the night before trying not to think about the way the red of Magnus’ shirt had clung to the sharp lines of his body to not recognize it on sight. He had clearly been paying more attention than he had realized to the way Magnus moved his hands when he talked because Alec had been able to recall their movement, the rings he had on each finger, with crystal clarity as he laid in bed. 

Madzie had rested peacefully last night, but Alec had not. Most of it had been stress and the discomfort of the nest he made for himself on the ground so that Madzie could sleep in his bed – but whenever Alec would feel himself relax enough to find himself be pulled toward unconsciousness, he found himself remembering the spell that had carried over Magnus’ quiet murmur of _Alexander_ into Alec’s ear yesterday.

Despite the circumstances, it had been – there are things about him that others don’t know – _can’t_ know – but Alec’s not in the business of fooling himself. He knows exactly why there had been a hundred fluttering wings in his stomach, why he’d been aware of every inch of his own burning skin when Magnus had been looking at him with clear, unmistakable intent. For that brief encounter, Alec had understood exactly what Jace and Izzy sneaked out at nights to find. 

And remembered why he never did the same.

Thinking about all of that makes Alec want to turn back around. But that’s not who he is, so he heads toward Izzy as was his original plan. _Get yourself together,_ he thinks, and even in his own head he sounds fiercely annoyed at himself.

Everything is fine. Magnus Bane is the High Warlock, Alec is the acting Head of the Institute. They’re supposed to talk. They’re supposed to see each other, now that Magnus is back from his year long stint away from the city.

No one but Alec will know the elevated beat of Alec’s heart. The way Alec wants to touch the soft brown of Magnus Bane’s skin. It’ll be just another mark in the tally of things no one but Alec knows. Alec has gone this long not acting on any of these desires, and just because this time it looks like the other person would welcome it – it doesn’t change anything.

Alec has a little girl whose future he has to think about. He can’t get caught up in this. 

Izzy’s face brightens when she meets Alec’s eyes. He arrives just in time to catch the tail end of a question Magnus’ seems to be asking:

“–ologne type of man?”

“I think you should ask him yourself,” says Izzy cheerfully, waving at Alec over Magnus’ shoulder. “Hey, big brother.”

Magnus spins around, face breaking out into a smile. “Alexander!” he greets. “Fancy seeing you here, of all places.” 

“I live here,” says Alec, feeling a little stupid as he does so even though it clearly needed to be said.

“Must have slipped my mind,” is Magnus’ breezy response. 

Alec can’t quite get himself to smile, but the wink Magnus throws his way has Alec wanting to look down, almost embarrassed. So of course, Alec squashes down that instinct and does the opposite: he straightens his spine and looks at Magnus directly. 

He tries not to notice that today it’s a shimmering black that’s brushed over his eyes.

Pulling himself together, Alec asks, “What brings you here?” 

“Business,” says Magnus. “It’s been years since I touched up the wards and I wanted to check on their status. Whoever you’ve been getting for maintenance in that time has been doing a shamefully mediocre job.” 

“I suspected,” admits Alec, despite the astronomical rates the Institute was charged. “We have only so much bargaining power.”

“Good thing I’m back,” says Magnus. “Since I’m more than happy to bargain with you all night.”

“That’s very – uh, very generous of you.” Alec can’t look at Izzy’s face right now. He just – he can’t. God, this man is just so – and Magnus must know it, must see something in Alec’s face because the playful, _flirtatious_ look on his face seems to kick up a notch and–

“They do say I’m generous in all the ways that matter,” says Magnus agreeably.

“Well, checking on the wards may have been Magnus’ initial reason for coming,” says Izzy, swooping in to Alec’s rescue. She’s grinning at Magnus though. “But in the last few minutes I contracted him to help me identify that ichor found in Harlem and he _graciously_ gave us an indefinite invite into Pandemonium.”

“Us?” repeats Alec, trying to get a hold of himself.

“You and Isabelle, of course,” says Magnus. “But let’s put this charming banter on pause for a minute. I really am here for business. Alexander – the talisman you wanted made?”

That’s right. Magnus had explained yesterday that “if it was possible to simply block the effects of the spell, it wouldn’t be a very good one – and Iris Rouse is unfortunately a very good warlock.” Alec had been disappointed, but then Magnus had said what he _could_ do as a temporary measure while he figured out how to break the spell is create a talisman that could alert Alec whenever the magic became active. Whenever Rouse is actually in Madzie’s head.

It’s more than anything Alec could’ve managed by himself and the resources at the Institute. Especially given that nobody here, with the exception of Jace and Izzy who he has already told, could find out about the incident.

Speaking of which. 

“Let’s clear out of the lab, first,” says Alec, giving Izzy a brief wave goodbye and leading Magnus out. He thinks about talking in Madzie’s room since she’s running around with Jace – her favourite pre-nap activity – but then he remembers that the whole place is covered in plastic and even though he finished painting the walls and the ceiling from the incident two nights ago, the floor is another matter entirely.

He goes toward his office instead.

Magnus speaks as soon as the door shuts behind them. “I didn’t realize you’d prefer not to bring up Madzie out there.”

“I’d prefer not to talk about the fact that Madzie apparently gives Iris Rouse a direct link into the Institute out there,” corrects Alec. His tone has gone on a sharp, defensive turn. “She’s my kid and she lives here, so it’s absolutely fine to talk about her in any other way. Unless,” he adds, frowning, “it’s to say something negative.” 

Magnus is smiling at Alec in a way that’s at odds with how short Alec had been with him. The sight of it flusters Alec a little. 

“Well,” says Magnus. “You don’t have to worry about hearing anything negative about that sweet little girl from me.” He pulls out something from the inside pocket of his red blazer. “These are the charms I made for you and Madzie.”

“Jewellery?” says Alec. He carefully picks up the small silver charm bracelet – clearly meant for Madzie – and a plain, smooth silver band from Magnus’ open palm.

“Picked them up from a street vendor on my way home from Pandemonium yesterday,” says Magnus. “Fifteen dollars. I’ll need to see Madzie to tie together the magic on the spell Rouse put to the bracelet, and it’ll be able to pick up whenever the magic is more than the baseline right now and make the ring – which is for you – grow hot. And I do mean hot, Alexander,” repeats Magnus, serious. “Your skin won’t actually burn, but it’ll feel like it.”

That’s – that’s exactly what Alec would want as an alert mechanism. Discreet, something he doesn’t have to worry about losing. Something he won’t be able to misinterpret or accidentally ignore.

Alec slides the ring on his right index finger. Of course, it fits perfectly. 

“This is perfect.” Returning the bracelet to Magnus and reaching out to shake his hand, Alec looks Magnus in the eyes and says, “Thank you, Magnus. For getting this put together so quickly.”

“Any time.” Magnus’ grip is strong, and there’s the faintest clink of one of his own rings against the single one of Alec’s. “Of course, I do need little Madzie to finish the last bit of the spell. And about the bill–”

Alec nods. It makes sense to get that squared away before finding Madzie. 

Beaming at him, Magnus says, “You should take me out to dinner.”

Alec’s breath catches in his chest as the words hit him. _You should take me out to dinner._

It’s strange, Alec thinks, that in some strange way, he had _hoped_ that something like this would happen even as he had listed for himself all the reasons why it wouldn’t. Why it _couldn’t_. Had known that in another life, how he’d respond by saying, _sure, that sounds fun_. He had indulgently hoped for this, and yet there’s a sinking in his stomach to have it actually happen. Shock, because he hadn’t actually expected it to. Disappointment, because he knows what his answer has to be. Frustration, because–

“I can’t.”

“I understand the need for discretion, of course,” says Magnus, not missing a beat. “As you know, I’ve been around for many hundreds of years. I am, for better or worse, _very_ familiar with the ways of nephilim.”

“It’s not that,” starts Alec, and then stops, because– “I mean, it is, but more than that – I have a kid.” 

“I know,” says Magnus, and his smile grows confused, even as it continues to be stunning. “If you’re worried about us getting along, I can guarantee–”

Magnus isn’t getting it at all.

“It’s not that either,” repeats Alec. Suddenly, he can’t look at Magnus’ face any more. How can he explain that – that if it was just Alec, if he didn’t have a child depending on him, then he would’ve – he would’ve said yes, even though he’d never be able to breathe a word about it in the Institute. He’d just have to be careful. It would be a calculated risk. But with Madzie, he can’t take risks. If the Clave finds out – it’s not just Alec’s career on the line, the potential ruin of what’s left of his relationship with his parents. 

They could take away Madzie, make him out to be an unfit parent.

And that’s just – that’s not an option. 

He settles with a wholly inadequate, “The way things work – there are already too many people with too many reasons on why Madzie shouldn’t be here. I can’t give them any more reasons.” _I can’t give them any more ammunition,_ he doesn’t say.

Alec can pinpoint the exact moment Magnus understands: his gaze grows from confusion to pity and Alec feels his hackles rising, feels the muscles on his shoulders grow tense. 

“Alexander,” starts Magnus, and Alec scowls at the gentleness in his tone.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he says. “I’m just – I’m just letting you know. We’ll settle your fee formally, and then we need to finish the last part of this spell.”

For the first time since they’ve met, Magnus frowns at him. And after a lingering moment of heavy silence, he finally says, “I understand. I can’t say that that’s the life I’d choose for myself but – I understand.”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” says Alec sharply, chest constricting. He knows he’s being unkind, showing none of the generosity Magnus has shown him so far, but – but it’s infuriating. To hear Magnus make judgments about the way Alec has to live his life in the same sentence he says he understands. As though he understands anything about Alec. To think that just a minute ago he couldn’t look at Magnus because of regret and now he can’t look away because of the rising anger. “Enough, we’re–”

Alec’s interrupted by a knock at the door. 

“What?” he snaps, and winces when he sees that it’s Jace, with Madzie sitting on his shoulders and trying to finger-comb Jace’s hair back in place.

“Uh,” says Jace, looking between Magnus and Alec with a raised brow. “Sorry for interrupting? Alec–”

“You’re not interrupting,” says Magnus brightly as Alec goes to help Madzie to the ground. “We were just finishing up business.” To Madzie, Magnus says, “How’re you doing, sweetpea?”

It never ceases to amaze Alec, how everything else seems so trivial when faced with Madzie, who smiles shyly at Magnus. Magnus’ gaze flickers to Alec for just a second, and Alec nods in understanding. No matter this strange – tension that’s risen between them, Alec has no doubt that they’re in complete harmony when it comes to Madzie.

“Madzie, Magnus brought a present for you that he made with his magic. It’ll help with the bad dreams.”

“Ooh,” says Madzie, stepping toward Magnus. “Can I see?”

Magnus proceeds to execute an extravagant series of hand motions to summon the bracelet in a flash of blue sparks. Alec would say that it was needless as he could’ve just pulled it out of his pocket, but it made Madzie gasp in delight and anything that causes that can’t ever be needless. 

“Here it is,” says Magnus, holding it out to Madzie. “Can I help you put it on?”

Alec steps back to let Magnus do his thing, his hands appearing so much larger in such close proximity to Madzie’s tiny ones. He’s pointing at each of the little charms handing from the bracelet, as though it’s important to him that Madzie understands exactly what she’s getting. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles at her, and – and fuck, thinks Alec, blinking the sudden sting away from his eyes.

Seeing the two of them together–

Jace unknowingly throws him a lifeline by softly asking, “That guy legit?”

Alec has to clear his throat. 

“I think so.” Reminded that Jace had come here with Madzie without Alec having to go get her for the spell, he asks, “Why’d you need to find me?”

He frowns when he sees Jace look back at the closed door. 

“It’s Penfield and Rosewater,” says Jace quietly. Alec stiffens. Penfield and Rosewater were the shadowhunters scheduled to stake out the Yamanaka residence today to keep an eye on Susie Yamanaka – one of the warlock children rescued from the Rouse investigation. “They were supposed to check in twenty minutes ago, but it’s been radio silence when Ops tried to get a hold of them.”

“What?” Alec swears under his breath. Luckily, Madzie is too far away to hear. “Have we sent out backup?” Jace nods in confirmation, but Alec still says, “I want you to go personally to the site. Depending on what you find – call Luke Garroway, get him and the mundane police involved.”

“You think it’s Rouse?” asks Jace, translating the litany of _fuck_ that’s running through Alec’s mind. “Coming back for the kids?”

“That’s the worst case scenario,” says Alec, grim. “We have to be ready if that’s the case. I’ll talk to Magnus once we’re done with Madzie, see if he’s willing to help with this.”

Jace glances at the two warlocks in question. “Did you ask him to put protection spell on her?”

“I don’t think everyday magic is enough for something like this.” If protecting these kids were as simple – if not _easy_ – as casting a spell, then the world would probably be a less miserable place than it is right now. 

As it is, Alec has to do some damage control.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and happy 2019!! hope you guys enjoy reading chapter 2 :D

Alec is made aware that his attempt to smooth things over wasn’t as effective as he’d hoped, based on the three-page letter he had received from his parents a few days later. Despite the fact that dread had pooled in his stomach, Alec appreciated the drama of receiving the message via fire rune even though an email would’ve been a more appropriate method of delivery.

with the letter had closed with, _The Institute’s resources should be focused on tracking down criminals. It’s been four months, Alec – either commit to bringing Rouse in or hand over responsibility for her capture to the Clave. You can’t waste any more shadowhunter lives as guards, especially now that she’s shown her hand and is unlikely to go after any more of those warlocks she bred._

 _We shouldn’t have to tell you this._

It’s a clear instruction from the _actual_ Heads of the Institute, a result of his carefully crafted incident report. There’s no getting around the fact that Susie Yamanaka is now missing, one of Alec’s soldiers is dead, and the other was found knocked out with little memory of what happened. Alec carries out the order from his parents and removes the soldiers from their posts, the injustice of it a permanent phantom haunting his every step. 

He keeps the task force running to bring Rouse in though, keeping Izzy as the head of its operations.

Removing the patrols around the rescued children is the wrong decision. Alec knows it. It’s the wrong decision, but there would be consequences if Alec didn’t follow through with it, if he had fought back too hard. Consequences which would end with Madzie being taken from him – and Alec would have no one to blame but himself. If he’d just been able to do his fucking job and bring Rouse in, then none of this would even be an issue. If the Warlock Council had bothered to lift even a single finger to help, Alec is confident that this outcome could have been avoided.

And to top off an already frustrating situation, his mother had heavily hinted that the Clave would be sending someone to New York if Alec put another foot out of line and didn’t start showing results.

The only thing that’s keeping Alec distracted from the growing shitstorm with Rouse is how excited Madzie is about seeing Catarina. Alec is too, glad to be making progress in at least this part of his life. The most important part. 

Catarina had sent Alec a fire message two days ago to lock down the date for Madzie’s lesson, provide him with her email address, and a homework assignment for Alec: to put together a list, only as comprehensive as practicable, of all the ways he has seen Madzie use magic. She probably hadn’t expected Alec’s diligence – or how much more amenable he is toward typing things versus writing them longhand. The list he sends Catarina includes some of the objectively impressive things he’s seen Madzie do – like the snowfall, and the portals she whips up at the drop of a hat – but also the absent instances he’s noticed her use magic that perhaps Madzie doesn’t realize herself. Little spells to keep her popsicles perpetually cold, summoning a hat for Alec on a sunny day, making the smell of the sunscreen he rubs over her nose and behind her ears smell like fresh peaches instead of – well, sunscreen.

He’d been almost smug with pride when Catarina had replied back with a, _Wow._ Of course, the rest of her message had been, _I think it’s important for you to be involved with the assessment of Madzie’s magical aptitude and her overall education. A couple hours a week with me will be helpful, but she’ll need to practice and get comfortable through continuous use. Let me know if you think you need to know anything from your perspective, or if you have questions. I want you to know that I’m here as a resource, and a friend._

Alec had been too surprised to do anything except respond with a sincere, _Thank you._ He had already been planning on being involved with every step of Madzie’s lessons, even though he suspects he won’t always be able to make it to all of them. But any kind of defensiveness that had risen in him ebbed away by the time he got to the end of her letter. Alec already had a list of things he was going to awkwardly ask her or Magnus about – whoever her saw first – including where he could find books on magical development stages and warlock history, and, of course, the kind of things he could read Madzie. Alec had been humbled with the feelings of relief and gratefulness that Catarina had reached out to him.

So maybe Alec’s also looking forward to this. Even if it means going to a nightclub with his five year-old daughter in the middle of the day. Again.

“Oh, I remember here!” says Madzie, stepping into Pandemonium and looking around with her eyes lit up in excited recognition. “Magnus says it’s his house? It’s so tall!” 

“This is where Magnus _works_ ,” corrects Alec. “Not where he lives.”

“This doesn’t look like your office,” says Madzie doubtfully. 

“Well,” says Alec, not having expected Madzie to make such a connection with the term ‘work.’ “Different people work in different places. Like – sometimes when Aunt Izzy’s working, she’s in the lab. And Jace is working wherever there’s a demon that needs to be sent back home. And all three of us work at the Institute.”

“Oh,” says Madzie. “Okay.” She looks content with Alec’s explanation, even though he can’t quite tell if she understood it or not. 

He doesn’t have too much time to think about it though – a second later, Madzie’s suddenly grasping at his hand, and Alec looks up to see Catarina waving at them from one of the barstools. 

Turning back to Madzie, he says, “Hey, it’s all right. Catarina’s our friend.”

Her grip on Alec’s hand just tightens. He gives a one-shouldered shrug to Catarina, and is relieved to see that she just shakes her head and tamps down a smile. 

“Hey, Madzie,” greets Catarina, warm. Alec feels Madzie instantly relax at his side. “Did you have a big lunch before coming here? You’re gonna need your energy if we’re going to be playing and learning some spells today.”

“Do you want to tell Catarina what we ate?” encourages Alec. 

“I ate cucumber slices, little tomatoes, and a chicken sandwich that was this big,” says Madzie, indicating the size fairly accurately with her hands. “Alec had one that was _this_ big.”

Alec can’t quite bite back his laughter as she extends her arms out completely to her sides.

“Hey, I shared it with you!” reminds Alec. “When you’re as big as me you can have the whole thing. Promise.”

“Okay,” says Madzie, and it’s incredible how she accepts any commitment from Alec, no matter how big or small, as long as it’s appended with a, “I promise.” He means it every time he says it, of course, but that has very little to do with the effect it has on him. To be regarded with her absolute trust. 

He’s going to make sure he never breaks it.

For the first half an hour, Alec mostly hangs back and watches Madzie let loose with Catarina. It’s – it’s something else. Madzie has free reign to use magic whenever she wants at the Institute and she _does_ , but usually it’s because she has a purpose. To fetch something she can’t reach, to find something, to change her blue shirt into yellow because she wants to dress like a sunflower. But she doesn’t know all the other ways magic can be used because no one’s ever shown her – except for Rouse, and Alec’s taking his time in gently coaxing out of Madzie her experience back at that horror show of a house, not wanting her to relive anything she doesn’t want to.

But Catarina – Catarina must have spent time around magical children to know exactly what kind of magic they’d have fun with. Most impressive to Alec is when, with a careful series of gestures, Catarina shows Madzie how to make huge, soapy bubbles that refract the light – bubbles that chase Madzie around the huge expanse of Pandemonium’s dance floor.

“Ahhhh!” shrieks Madzie, laughing as she runs away. “Alec, help! Help! It’s chasing meeee!” 

She brings the army of translucent spheres right toward Alec and leaps into his arms, Alec barely having time to secure his hold around her and start running himself.

“Oh no,” says Alec, noticing how the bubbles have picked up their speed, now that Alec is their main target. It’s suddenly obvious that they weren’t even trying when they were chasing Madzie. Catarina’s a tricky one. “Now they’re coming after me, speedy. What do we do?”

“Run!” is the only direction Madzie gives, clinging on to Alec’s neck. Alec does of course, but the bubbles multiply so rapidly that soon enough, the two of them get backed up against a wall. 

“Well,” says Alec somberly. “We fought a good fight, Madzie.” Dropping his voice, he says, “You ready to break those bubbles and show them who the boss is around here?”

“ _Yes_ ,” whispers Madzie gleefully, and she’s grinning wide. Securing his hand to the back of her head, Alec says, “Hold on tight,” and–

And before he can run into the mass of bubbles and get doused in soapy residue, Madzie flicks her hand and all at once, the bubbles pop and vanish from the room, leaving Catarina visible on the other side of it. 

“Yay!” cheers Madzie. 

“This... this isn’t what I meant, Madz,” says Alec, helplessly fond as he shakes his head. “You’re five steps ahead of me.”

“But we broke the bubbles!” says Madzie. “Can we do this back home, Alec?”

“Only if you learn how to from Catarina,” says Alec, setting her down. Maybe they’ll do this out in the field, though. Not between the packed walls of the Institute. 

It isn’t all fun and games, though. Afterward, Catarina comes to sit beside Alec back at the barstools and they both watch Madzie frown in concentration as she struggles to turn the colourful papers in front of her into a rose with exactly twenty-eight petals.

“It’s completely normal,” says Catarina, clearly interpreting the look on Alec’s face. “No need to look so worried.”

“She’s just – she’s literally never had to try so hard with magic,” says Alec. “It’s as easy to her as breathing.”

“She’s exceptionally talented,” agrees Catarina. “And when her heart’s in it, it comes naturally to her. But she’s only five. She’ll have trouble with things that require... the magical equivalent of fine motor skills.”

It makes sense, and it’s consistent with Madzie’s non-magical development as well. She can’t quite follow the lines of her letters when she practices her writing, but it’s something that’ll improve in time. Still, the twelfth time he sees her painstakingly count the petals and her face fall when it’s not the right number, Alec’s heart goes out to her. “Maybe we can call it a day,” he says. 

“Sure,” says Catarina easily. “Help her practice at home. But before you guys leave – I was thinking about that list you sent me. Of all the things Madzie does that seemed – big, to you. The portals, the snow.”

“Yeah?”

“Doing that kind of thing uses up a lot of energy,” explains Catarina. “Especially for someone as little as her. I don’t think she even realizes it. Sometimes I think kids are better at running on fumes than we are.” 

“Yeah, it’s not fun.” The number of times Madzie’s run around and played for hours at a time before suddenly getting tired and cranky in the evening, wanting to go to bed without dinner – Alec’s too familiar with it. It’s unexpected each time, tiring even for him. 

He doesn’t know how people do it without a stamina rune to keep them going on the bad days.

“It isn’t,” says Catarina. “And you know, magic – a warlock’s magic – can be autonomic. There are certain things it does without us having to think about. Keeping us alive indefinitely is one of them. Providing us with a basic sense of control is another.” Pausing, Catarina looks Alec directly and says, “This is a theory I want to run by Magnus, but I think whatever the spell is that Rouse has on her – it’s easier to access Madzie when she’s low on energy.”

“Low on energy,” repeats Alec voice sounding distant to his own ears. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean that changing weather patterns is enough to tire out even an adult warlock. Madzie is very strong, and I don’t think this would be a problem in a normal situation – but the spell on her complicates things...”

“I... see,” he says, and those two words are suddenly a struggle. _Do you like snow, Alec?_ Madzie had asked him just an hour before Rouse’s magic had reached her.  
Madzie had been low in energy, Alec thinks, and he has to press his lips together to stop himself from reacting in any other way. He clenches his fingers into a fist to keep from punching something. 

None of this would be happening if he hadn’t told that stupid story to Madzie. Alec’s used to being in a constant state of anger toward his own incompetence, but this is at a whole other level. He tries to turn this rage toward Rouse, and is immediately successful – Alec might have had a part in this, but he can’t forget who most of the blame in this situation resides with. Who else he needs to bring to justice along with himself.

He takes a deep, steadying breath. _Get it together._

“Other than talking to her about being careful with big things like that,” starts Alec, once he can speak again, “what can I do? I can’t keep an eye on her all the time, and – if she overexerts herself, what can I do to make sure she doesn’t go to sleep like that?”

“I suppose you can ask her if she feels tired or if she used a lot of magic.” Catarina is looking at Madzie, frowning. “It’s honestly – this isn’t something I have experience with. I never thought I’d have to worry about another warlock going after a child of our own. It’s unnatural.” 

Knowing that even Catarina doesn’t know what to do in a situation like this – it’s shitty, but it helps ease something inside of Alec. Even though another part of Alec worries that _even Catarina_ doesn’t know what to do. 

“In an emergency you can of course call me,” continues Catarina slowly, “but as a general rule with warlocks – if we need a boost to perform a powerful spell or we’re running out of energy, we have the ability to draw from others. Other warlocks, seelies. Nephilim.”

“Okay,” says Alec, relieved. “That’s good to know.”

“That should only be a last resort, Alec,” warns Catarina. “Especially with a child. Madzie might not know when to stop and when you’re sharing energy like that, your lifestreams are connected.”

Alec had understood that part just fine.

“I had a question for you too,” he says, switching gears. “I usually read to Madzie before she goes to bed. Storybooks, you know, fun stuff for kids. Things my mom read to me and my sister when we were small – but they’re all about nephilim. I’ve picked up some mundane books too, but it’s not the same.” Alec hasn’t forgotten how Alicante, the home of the Lightwoods, isn’t a place where Madzie would be able to step into. “Do you know where I can find kids’ books about warlocks?”

Catarina’s face twists into something that has Alec troubled. “I’m sorry to say that I don’t.”

“What is it?” he asks, frowning.

“Nothing,” says Catarina, blinking a little. “It’s just such a small thing. Books for children about warlocks. It’s not something I ever gave thought to but it’s so – such a fundamental part of raising a young child. The last time I had responsibility for a warlock of Madzie’s age–”

Catarina cuts herself off, and Alec immediately understands. He knows, of course, that warlocks live forever and go through every possible event that can be experienced in a lifetime. And that… that must include loss. Alec can see it written clear in her face. 

Shaking herself out of whatever reverie had gotten a hold of her, Catarina straightens and says, “Sorry I can’t be of much help, but – perhaps try Magnus. He’s much more traveled than I am and has the biggest personal collection I’ve ever seen. If there’s anyone who would’ve come across what you’re looking for, it’s him.”

“Magnus?” repeats Alec, and suddenly he feels alert in a completely different way. He realizes he’s been absently playing with the ring that has a permanent place on his forefinger. “Is he back?” 

“You’re right, he’s still at the Labyrinth.” 

“On the Rouse case?”

“Oh, on all of it,” says Catarina. “Rouse is one of the reasons he’s there, yes, but also figuring out why exactly his successor hadn’t been involved with the investigation. He’s also assigned me the unofficial mission to survey the warlocks in the boroughs about what they know and to tell you if I come across anything suspect.”

Her voice is fond as she talks about Magnus, but it slowly transitions to sombreness, “Nothing to report just yet.”

“Well,” says Alec, not knowing what else to say. He reaches out to her, giving her hand a firm shake. “I appreciate all your help. Let me know if I can do anything for you and – see you next week?” 

Catarina waves him off Alec and Madzie as they head home.

-

 

Magnus had left to go to the Spiral Labyrinth straight from the Institute that day. His mouth had gotten pinched at the corners when Alec had told him about Susie. It had been a shocking change from the way he had been smiling at Madzie just moments earlier, the way his hold on Alec’s hand had lingered after he had finished the spell connecting Alec’s ring with Madzie’s bracelet.

“Lorenzo should be helping you,” he had said after long minutes of silently listening to Alec give him the details on the Rouse case. His eyes had never once looked away from Alec. “Even with the help of your other shadowhunters. I did read your letter to Catarina, you know. I just – I hadn’t expected it to be like this.”

“Like what?” Alec had asked. “The Council wanting nothing to do with this? It’s normal for us to not get any cooperation.”

Magnus hadn’t been convinced.

“No, there’s too much going on here that doesn’t make sense. I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

And then Magnus had left. 

It hadn’t stopped Alec from thinking about Magnus in the exact way he had told him he would never act on. No matter how much Alec had tried, it was impossible to keep his thoughts from the man. How could he, when Magnus had been the first person with whom it hadn’t just been Alec own secret, shameful reaction that had come to life inside of him? When it had been returned and put into words for Alec to hear and deal with? The first time that Alec truly had to make a decision that was different, more tangible than the decision he makes every day just for existing?

Something about their parting, the news about Rouse – it had gone a long way in bridging any lingering strangeness from their previous disagreement and brought them back to the same page. Still, when Alec receives a fire message from Magnus almost two weeks after, he can’t quite define how he feels. Somewhere in between relieved and apprehensive. 

_Dear Alexander,_ starts the thin, elegant script. _I spoke with Catarina and I hear you’re in search of something magical to read to darling Madzie. I’ve just returned to New York, so please feel free to come by for some recommendations from my library whenever you have the time. There’s some other matters regarding my visit to the Spiral Labyrinth that we should talk about as well._

_Hoping to see you soon,  
Magnus_

There’s a post script at the end with a New York City area phone number and, _Maybe next time we can communicate in a more 21st century fashion._

It doesn’t help that he gets the letter at six in the evening, when he’s going through some basic math with Madzie in his office. Madzie, who’s a constant reminder to Alec of what he has to protect, why he can’t step out of line, why he can’t sleep at night with the thought of Susie Yamanaka and the other children he’s turned his back on constantly plaguing his thoughts. Madzie, who would much rather pay attention to a burst of flames appearing in front of Alec than her simple additions.

“Ooh,” she says, perking up from where she’d been scowling at her book. “What’s that?”

“It’s a letter from our friend Magnus,” he tells her. For a second she seems confused, and Alec reminds her, “He’s the one who gave you your bracelet.”

Her expression brightens again when she remembers. “Oooh, Magnus! What’s he saying?”

“That he might have some books for us to read,” says Alec. “Books about warlocks, like you and him. I might go and see him later and ask if we can borrow them.”

“Are we going back to Panda?” Ever since Alec told her what Pandemonium was called and Madzie gave up trying to say the word, she’d been referring to it as ‘Panda.’

“ _You’re_ going to have dinner and go to bed like all the other five-year-old warlocks in New York.” 

“No, I wanna go too,” says Madzie, face scrunching up. 

“You have to finish these math problems first,” says Alec. He steers her back toward her work. “Almost there, Madz.” 

With the math, a missed nap, and the warm bath she takes in the evening, Madzie doesn’t even need a bedtime story to fall asleep tonight. Vividly aware of what Catarina had told him earlier, Alec asks Madzie if she’s tired because she used a lot of magic today, and Madzie drowsily shakes her head no. It’s consistent with what Alec had thought, so he just places a kiss to the back of hand and makes sure Magnus’ bracelet is securely in place.

It’s rare that Madzie’s asleep so early, thinks Alec. He glances at the mounted clock in his office when he steps back in, planning to get some work done. It’s barely nine. He has a whole three hours ahead of him.

And then Alec’s eyes fall on the folded note on his desk, the message he received from Magnus earlier. The one with Magnus’ number on it.

There’s no reason Alec shouldn’t call, he thinks. He walks over to the desk, picks up the note. He really should get an update from Magnus about the Warlock Council anyway, and there’s nothing untoward about Alec’s intentions to get those books for Madzie. The coil of anticipation in his stomach, tight from the thought of seeing Magnus again, shouldn’t be preventing Alec. 

And yet that’s the very thing that makes him hesitate. As though the thought itself is reason enough for punishment, and getting any pleasure from it is the same as committing the crime. But that isn’t true, is it? Only a trial by the Sword would make these thoughts known by the Clave, and even then – it would only be if specific, targeted questions were asked by people who already suspected. And until Magnus was able to see the truth about him with just a glance, Alec thought that he had done a very, very thorough job of concealing it. If this were to come out–

Alec stops himself. Now he’s being stupid. He can’t help his reaction to Magnus, to men. If he’s going to face consequences for an unactioned desire, he lost this battle years ago. The facts are that Magnus is an important player in New York’s Shadow World, and an invaluable resource for Madzie. And if Alec thinks about what it would be like to haul him close and feel the heat of Magnus’ burning blue fire against his own skin – then. Well, that’s just another fact.

He pulls out his phone and dials Magnus’ number before he thinks any more about it. 

“Alexander,” greets Magnus from the other end, sounding surprised. “I wasn’t expecting your call.”

“Hey,” says Alec. The sound of Magnus’ voice startles him in an unexpected way. A pleasant way. “How’d you know it was me?”

Magnus laughs, a little sheepish.

“I had your number already from Catarina,” he admits. “But I thought I’d leave it up to you on whether you wanted to call. Just in case you were partial to writing letters and wanted to continue our correspondence in that manner.”

“Thoughtful.” Alec says this dryly, but he’s more touched by this gesture than he can comfortably express. “But no, I try to avoid writing by hand as much as anyone else.”

“Our preferred means of communication are aligned, then.”

“Looks like it,” says Alec. God, he thinks. What an awkward, inane back-and-forth. “Listen, I do have a reason for calling. Several reasons.”

“Is that so?” He sounds very charming. Alec soldiers on. 

“I wanted to ask about those books for Madzie,” he says. “And if you’ve made any breakthroughs with the curse on her, and... if there were any developments from your time at the Labyrinth you wanted to catch me up on. Do you have time for that today? Now?”

“With respect to the most important of those to you, I feel as though it would be remiss of me if I didn’t just give you an update now: I’ve unfortunately not made as much progress on the curse as I would’ve hoped.”

Alec’s heart sinks a little, but it’s not as though he had been expecting anything different. Curses probably wouldn’t be curses if they were simple to break, and he had figured Magnus would’ve let him know as soon as there were any updates. Still–

“Well, that was just one of things on my list.” The silence on the other end of the line makes Alec flustered. Clearing his throat, he says, “I get that it’s pretty last minute and if you’re not–”

“I am,” interrupts Magnus. “I’m free.”

“Oh,” says Alec, somehow unprepared for the answer despite wanting it to be just this. “All right, then.”

Magnus sounds like he’s smiling when he says, “My library is at my loft. Unless you’d like me to select what I think is best and bring them to the Institute?”

Objectively, Alec knows Magnus’ suggestion makes sense. Nobody would think anything if Magnus had shown up with gifts for Madzie, or to discuss something with Alec in their official capacity. It would be weirder to anyone looking at them, in fact, if Alec insists differently. 

And yet Alec does just that and says, “Better if I come to you.” 

“Oh?” This is the most surprised Magnus has sounded yet.

“You’re doing me a favour,” says Alec, because that’s what this is. Magnus being kind, the same way Catarina is. It’s the least Alec can do to show his gratefulness: by making the process as painless for them as possible. So what if Magnus can just open up a portal? “I won’t disturb you for too long. I just have to double check that Jace is free tonight to keep an eye on Madzie but – text me where I should meet you.”

He ends the call right after that, releasing a great breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

It’s fine, Alec tells himself after making sure Jace’ll be around in case Madzie wakes up in the next couple hours. It’s fine. Both he and Magnus know where the two of them stand. He’ll go over to Magnus’ place, have a productive conversation, and make his way back home. 

It’ll be fine.

-

 

Half an hour later, standing at the entrance of Magnus’ apartment – Alec realizes that things are most certainly _not_ fine. 

“Alexander,” says Magnus warmly. “Glad you didn’t get lost! Come on in.”

He says it in a perfectly friendly manner, but something about Magnus’ voice has the back of Alec’s neck burning hot. Nobody should have a voice like that. 

More importantly – nobody should _look_ like that unless they’re starring in a particularly debauched fantasy. Alec has only seen Magnus twice in the short period of time they’ve known each other. And he had the breath knocked out of him each of those times, even though Magnus was dressed quite professionally. Magnus had been in bold colours, yes, and perhaps his shirtsleeves had clung to his biceps and the fit of his pants had made his trim waist and massive shoulders all the more obvious to Alec – but that was just Alec being Alec and Magnus being exceptionally attractive. 

The Magnus that answers the door though, is something else entirely. He has on a sheer, navy blue shirt that’s open all the way to his navel. Two thin chains drape over his bare chest, falling just shy of his ludicrously defined abs. His face is made up to be striking, alluring, and there’s a shimmering streak of – of something along the line of his throat. 

Magnus doesn’t just look good. He looks like walking sex. Like he could eat Alec alive. 

It takes Alec a good ten seconds to get his vocal chords working.

“Are you–” he pauses, mouth uncomfortably dry and yet nowhere near the most uncomfortable part of his body right now. “Sorry, uh. Were you heading out?” 

“Oh.” 

To Alec’s confusion, Magnus looks slightly embarrassed. Even more confusingly – and to Alec’s great disappointment – Magnus summons a thin gray sweater to cover himself up. “Oh, no. I was going to head over to Pandemonium, after. I was getting ready when you called.”

This has Alec frowning. 

“You didn’t have to change your plans for this,” he says, carefully following Magnus inside.

“Nonsense. Going out is a normal night for me, and that kind of night can wait to get started. I would _much_ rather show off my library to an interested party.”

Alec just nods, and Magnus breezily keeps driving their conversation forward. “How’s little Madzie doing?” 

“Good. She tired herself out today, so it was an early night for her.” Alec takes in the loft, trying not to get overwhelmed by it. “You’ve got a nice place,” he says. It takes all his self-control not to cringe at how he sounds.

Magnus, however, beams at Alec’s sorry attempt at a compliment. “Why, thank you! It’s new, a massive upgrade from my old lair. Let me give you a quick tour.”

Magnus’ quick tour ends up taking fifteen minutes, and includes short lessons on Neoclassical art, Japanese architecture, and intriguing hints on Magnus’ own history which Alec would have, in another life, inquired about further. The place is elegant, extravagant, but undoubtedly lived-in. Alec gets momentarily distracted at the balcony doors, caught up by the sight of Manhattan at night before Magnus finally pulls him into the library.

“Wow,” says Alec, looking around. “This is... a lot.”

“I’ve had a long time to put it together,” is Magnus’ response to Alec’s awed statement, waving a hand.

Magic must have been involved to put something like this together in the sixteenth floor apartment in Brooklyn. Warm golden light falls over the room, rows and rows of shelves bursting with novels and textbooks, immeasurable volumes of encyclopaedias taking up every available space. Alec wants to ask, _did you read all this?_ but something stops him. The amount of knowledge in this room is more than what someone can make their way through in a single lifetime. 

He has an idea of what Magnus’ answer will be, and strangely, Alec doesn’t want it confirmed. It would be knowing too much.

Magnus walks over to the grand desk in the room which has a small stack of books in one corner. 

“I have a friend in London,” he says. “An irritating and irritatingly crafty warlock named Ragnor Fell. Terribly fond of awful children. Something I know to be fact as I _was_ one of those awful children. I met him when I was very young, and in the custody of Silent Brothers.”

“What century was that?”

“Alexander!” gasps Magnus, covering his mouth. He can’t quite hide his delight though. “You don’t just _ask_ a warlock of my advanced years a question like that. It’s just not done.”

“I apologize for my ignorance of warlock customs,” says Alec wryly.

“No time like the present to learn,” says Magnus winsomely. “And I’ve been told I’m an excellent teacher – but I digress. What was I talking about before I was distracted by your dry wit?”

“Your friend, Ragnor Fell.”

“Ah yes, Ragnor. The thing about Ragnor is that he also fancies himself as something of an author. He wrote stories for warlock children, to teach them about their magic, their history, their place in the world. The Spiral Labyrinth won’t house these, of course, as they’re not exactly academic – but there are a few of us High Warlocks who keep them. In case we end up with children under our protection who, through some blessed miracle, have a life and a loving home outside of us.” 

Magnus pauses, looking at Alec with a sombreness in his gaze. “Like Madzie.”

A lump has formed in Alec’s throat. He’s careful as he takes the books Magnus holds out to him. Having a difficult time meeting Magnus’ eyes, Alec instead looks down at the title of the topmost story: _Becky Blossom and the High(ly Preposterous) Warlock of Barcelona_. 

Unbidden, an image of a young Magnus comes to mind. A young Magnus, raised in the caring but cold company of Silent Brothers, without cleverly named storybooks. Without who knows what else. Magnus was raised in the exact situation Alec had desperately wanted to protect Madzie from, in the aftermath of dismantling Rouse’s operations. 

The magnitude of this moment is humbling. Anything Alec could say seems inadequate, trite, so he just settles for a rough, “Thank you. And Madzie will thank you too, the next time she sees you.”

Shaking his head, Magnus says, “Please believe me when I say it’s my absolute privilege to be able to provide this for you and Madzie.”

“I mean it,” says Alec, suddenly finding the fortitude to look up at Magnus. Magnus, who looks startled by the ferocity in Alec’s words. “I mean it,” he repeats, holding Magnus’ gaze. “Thank you. This is – this is very generous of you. You’re doing this without expecting anything in return–”

“Despite what you’ve no doubt been taught in Alicante’s finest schools,” cuts in Magnus dryly, pointedly, “warlocks aren’t _solely_ driven by worldly greed.”

Alec’s feels his face grow hot with embarrassment.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says and it’s the truth, even though there is truth in what Magnus said. Alec’s grip tightens on the books. Now isn’t the time to get distracted. “I just – I just wanted you to know that I appreciate this. And if you ever need one, you have a friend in me. I’m in your debt.”

Now Magnus looks taken aback.

“Alec, I was joking. This is nothing. It’s just a book,” but whatever he was trying to accomplish with the levity in his tone doesn’t work. He doesn’t look away from Alec and he’s – he’s standing close. Too close. Close enough that Alec imagines he can feel the phantom heat of him. 

Swallowing against his dry throat, Alec says, “It’s more than that to me.”

There’s no explanation for why he’s admitting to this, tantamount to baring himself open. Magnus may not know the depth of what Alec means by them, but Alec does. Magnus is giving Alec the means to provide better for Madzie. And while it’s imperative that Magnus understands that, that Alec will say and do whatever he has to help that happen – it’s also more than that.

Magnus doesn’t reply, but there’s something sharp in the next breath he takes. His lips part a little, and Alec’s eyes flicker down to them. But only momentarily. There is a gravity to Magnus’ eyes which draws Alec’s own back in and something about the silence takes on a life, forms a presence, presses down on Alec, takes up the space in his lungs where air should be. 

It makes the hair rise on his arms. It makes him acutely aware of the boundaries of his body, exactly where he ends and Magnus begins. The meager foot of air separating them.

It’s heady, intoxicating. It slows down Alec’s thoughts even as it speeds up the beats of Alec’s heart. God, he’s so close. That’s the only thing that’s crystal clear right now. How close Magnus is and how he seems to be pulling in even closer, drawn by the same inexplicable magnetic force Alec has to tear himself away from because – because–

The only thing that snaps him out of it is Magnus saying his name. 

“Alexander,” he murmurs, and the three syllables serve to both run the blood hot through Alec, and simultaneously douse him with the cold, unforgettable facts about reality.

Alec nearly stumbles in his haste to step back.

There’s a single moment when Magnus presses his lips together – a sign of what? Frustration? Disappointment? Alec knows he’s a frequent instigator or both – before his whole face changes into something forcibly brighter. 

“Well!” he says, clapping his hands together. “That’s that, I suppose. I’ll fix us up a quick drink before we both head out, hmm?”

He sweeps out of the room, and Alec has no other choice except to follow him out. 

-

 

Magnus keeps up a steady chatter as he pours himself a glass of whiskey over ice and Alec, an out-of-place giant amidst the grace and elegance of the loft, just awkwardly waits for Magnus to finish. He looks perturbed at the news that Alec doesn’t really drink, and his theatrical reaction helps ease the strangeness between them. Only as much as possible, of course. It’s probably impossible for Alec to _not_ feel aware of Magnus. It’s the very reason that he should probably take the opportunity to leave right now, but– 

But the books in Alec’s hands remind him of another matter that he came here to talk to Magnus about: that Madzie isn’t the only little warlock in need of this kind of education. It makes Alec both ashamed and annoyed at himself for forgetting about it, for getting distracted by – well, for getting distracted. And there’s a more pressing threat than the need for a proper education, thinks Alec grimly.

It’s been over two weeks and Susie Yamanaka is still missing.

“Hey,” says Alec, when Magnus finally turns around. He absently takes the glass of – whatever Magnus passes on to him, setting it down on the coffee table. “I also wanted to talk to you about your trip. Was the Warlock Council willing to get involved to help with the children?”

The easy cheer fades from Magnus’ expression. And while that makes Alec uneasy, it doesn’t deter him. “I don’t know if you heard, but the New York Institute – I still have jurisdiction on the Rouse investigation and Yamanaka’s missing-persons case, but I’ve had to withdraw the shadowhunters posted with the other children.”

“I did hear,” replies Magnus heavily. “And it was at the request of the Council. They don’t want you involved in the process.”

“What?” That doesn’t make any sense. It's not the impression that Alec had gotten from the letter from his parents, either. But Magnus has no reason to make that up, and he's the one who just came back from an extended stay at the Spiral Labyrinth. He has better information - it's just that the information seems absurd. It’s one thing to not want to help with the problem, and it’s another thing to actively impede it. All Alec’s been doing was making sure someone who knew the truth about what those kids had gone through was keeping an eye on them. Why would anyone not want that? And then there’s the other part: “Why would the Clave listen to them?”

“Because it’s better for the Clave to keep clear of these kinds of disputes,” says Magnus. “And both Alicante and the warlocks agree on that front.” 

Alec scoffs, unable to hide his incredulity. Safety for children are the kind of common, unifying factor that should help put all that aside. Alec knows that that’s one of the main reasons the other shadowhunters at the Institute haven’t raised a fuss about Madzie’s presence, though the fact that she doesn’t have a conspicuous warlock mark to highlight how different she is must be another factor. Why they look at her with an almost benevolent fondness. Why for Alec, all of the distrust and disdain he had held never once came up, not even that first time he met her. She’s just a kid. 

Pushing that aside for the moment, he presses, “Fine, they don’t want me involved with this. Does that mean they’re taking over the detail instead?”

Magnus’ face does an odd little twist.

“They’re discussing the appropriate next steps,” he says, slowly rocking the whiskey in his glass. “Something like that has to be a joint decision by the Council and Brooklyn’s... current High Warlock.”

“But that’s you. Lorenzo Rey’s–”

“Yes, he’s the acting High Warlock. The interim one. Whatever his official title, the warlock representative of any territory has certain ties to the ley lines, to the magic of the residents. It’ll take weeks to transition that back to me and unfortunately – I’ve tipped my hand when I went to the Labyrinth.”

That puts more colour to the landscape they’re navigating, but not any clarity as to why Magnus’ answers don’t address the issue head on.

“Okay, fine. That’s – that’s unfortunate, but at least we know what we’re dealing with. Where exactly is acting High Warlock Rey? Was he at the Labyrinth with you?”

“He wasn’t. Busy finishing off a holiday weekend in Ibiza, no doubt,” says Magnus, and Alec lets outs a strangled noise. “I really should take my share of the blame of this,” he says blithely. Alec frowns as Magnus tips an inadvisable amount of whiskey into his mouth. “Leaving New York and letting its protection fall into the hands of Lorenzo Rey.”

Alec immediately dismisses that. “This isn’t on you,” he says, even as Magnus’ words reignite that deep curiosity inside of him as to why Magnus had left at all. Alec looks down at his books again, chest twisting. This isn’t the news he expected to learn tonight. 

“It is, a little,” says Magnus, sounding very tired. Alec – Alec doesn’t know why he’s surprised to hear that. Of course that’s what Magnus would think. Anyone who spends five minutes in his company would be able to see how deeply he cares about the people in this city under his protection. 

“It’s why I’m trying to do what I can to expedite getting my title back,” continues Magnus. “It’s the only course of action I can think of right now. Unfortunately, it’s unclear how much time it’ll take for me to achieve that and – well, I don’t have to tell you that this all has to be done legitimately. It can’t seem like a power play, like I’m trying to usurp Lorenzo.”

Alec shakes his head. 

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “This isn’t right. It’s not right that you have to resort to that to do the basic, decent thing. How can Rey not care that this is going on in his own backyard? How can the _Council_ –” 

“You’ll be surprised, Alexander,” says Magnus. At that moment, he sounds just as old and weary as his four hundred years. “At just how much suffering people can make themselves blind and deaf toward.” 

Alec presses his lips together, not knowing how to answer. He understands a sliver of the bitterness in Magnus’ voice when he says, “I’m living proof that this isn’t the first time the Warlock Council’s done something like this and there have been many more cases like this in the four hundred years since. Every governing body in the Shadow World have agendas beyond the need of a handful of individuals, Alexander, from the Warlock Council to the Seelie Court to your Clave. It can’t be something that surprises you.”

There’s nothing in Magnus’ response that Alec didn’t already know, but it doesn’t stop Alec from feeling helpless. And then being frustrated _at_ his helplessness. He wants to fight, to do something about the disbelieving anger in him, about the anxiety that eats at him every day at the thought of the risk those eight children are in. 

Alec starts to pace, an unconscious decision to help work off his restlessness.

“Those kids – they need something immediate, Magnus. I know you’re going after getting your title back as a more permanent solution but – but until you do they’re completely defenseless.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Magnus sounds just as frustrated as Alec feels. “I’m all ears if you have any ideas, Alexander.”

“What about other warlocks across the city? Can you ask for their help?” Alec’s probably grasping at straws here. “People who owe you favours, or – who would be okay with going against the Council–”

Magnus frowns. “What d’you mean?”

“There must be more warlocks who want to do the right thing. More warlocks who’re like you, like Catarina, than assholes like Rey–”

“Alexander,” interrupts Magnus, and there’s a warning quality in his note. Now it’s Alec’s turn to frown. “I’m going to stop you right there. It’s not – it’s not just ‘warlocks like me’ and ‘warlocks like Lorenzo Rey’–”

“You’re right. It’s people who are willing to risk their necks to do what’s right, and people who aren’t.”

“You can’t possibly expect me to put others’ standing with the Council at risk as a personal favour to me.”

“It wouldn’t be a favour to you, it would–” And now Alec’s just sounding like a particularly stupid parrot. Almost helplessly, he finishes, “It would just be the right thing to do.”

“It’s not that simple. And I know you understand that because you called off _your_ shadowhunters for this exact same thing.”

Magnus says the last bit carefully, pointedly, but Alec feels the purpose of it land as solid as a cudgel’s blow. 

“You know why I can’t make waves.” Alec doesn’t understand why it feels so much like betrayal that he has to say this, when he has already explained all this to Magnus when they had last met, even though the context had been different. Why should it matter that Magnus thinks that Alec’s a hypocrite and a coward? “You know I can’t afford to make noise with the Clave’s orders right now–”

“And I’m not saying you should be doing anything different,” says Magnus. “But I’m just–” He shakes his head, as though he can’t believe what he’s about to say. “How can you expect us to do something you’re not willing to do yourself?”

Alec doesn’t understand how _Magnus_ can’t see the stark difference. 

“Of course I’d do this if I could. But you know I can’t risk doing anything which’ll end up with them taking Madzie away as – as some kind of punishment for me. I don’t have people who’ll want to go against a directive from the Clave. Especially if it doesn’t directly affect them. There’s a ticking clock here and I don’t have the time to parse out which of my shadowhunters would take an order from me because of their own morality. But you–” 

“But me what?” asks Magnus, very softly. All of him seems to have become still.

“You’re the _High Warlock_. You care about this. You can do more, and there’s just – there must be something–” 

Alec’s not sure exactly when it is that he loses Magnus, but it’s at this point when he notices it. That abruptly stops him from finishing his last thought: _There must be something more the warlocks of New York can do, even if the Council won’t._ Magnus stands up, and all at once he’s someone else. 

At the doorway when Alec had first arrived, he had been a vision from a particularly tormenting dream. In the library he had been warm and magnetic. Now he looks – formidable, unreachable, thunderous. There is nothing welcoming about the expression on his face.

“I may not have a child to risk,” says Magnus, and there is a storm under the calmness of his voice. “But that doesn’t mean I have nothing to lose. And while you’ve made it perfectly clear that I’ve fallen short of whatever bar you had set out for me–”

What? Alec hasn’t for one second thought– “That is _not_ –”

“I have responsibilities,” interrupts Magnus sharply. “Responsibilities that go beyond making decisions solely to help you alleviate whatever misplaced guilt, whatever feelings of inadequacy you’re carrying for not having the power to solve this on your own–”

Alec doesn’t even have words available to him right now. He feels frozen in place, no clue on how to react. How is he supposed to defend against something that he had never expected to have been used in an attack? Something he hadn’t realized was so easy for Magnus to see?

“And I’m not going to entertain someone trying to coerce me into their course of action.” Magnus turns away from him. “I think we’ve come to a natural end of the night, Alexander. You should see yourself out.”

That jolts Alec out of his shocked state.

“What?” Alec’s going to have marks on his skin from the whiplash. What the fuck is going on, he has one bewildered moment to think. “We’re not done talking about–”

“Yes, we are.” 

With a slight wave of his hand, Magnus’ front door unlocks and swings open. Alec would be completely outraged at this absurd display, except that his disbelief outweighs anything else he’s capable of feeling right now.

“Are you kidding me?” asks Alec finally. “You say all that crap and then kick me out before I can even get started on why you’re wrong? Are you _kidding_ me?”

“Please leave with whatever grace you’re capable of mustering, Alexander. I’m not going to repeat myself again.”

Alec’s disbelief finally gives way to furiousness.

“You won’t have to,” he snaps. “I got the message.”

Magnus doesn’t say anything else. Suddenly, Alec can’t look at him anymore without wanting to punch something. Magnus might’ve asked him to leave for whatever bizarre reasons he’d made up in his head but right now, Alec has no problems heeding to his demand of having Alec out of his apartment. Alec doesn’t want to be there for a second longer than he has to.

When he stalks out, Alec slams the door shut behind him.

-

 

It takes Alec twenty minutes to get back to the Institute. 

The cool, midnight air helps to calm down the blood running hot inside him, even as it fails to provide clarity as to what exactly Alec said that triggered such a reaction from Magnus. He’s annoyed – and angry, and more than a little stung – at the manner Magnus insisted they part ways, but he’s also – confused. Frustrated that those hours didn’t help them closer to addressing any of the threats related to Rouse and that it reduced their previously easy friendship – if something so new and fraught with this strange tension could even be called that – into something ugly and uncertain.

The tumultuous conflict inside Alec grows even more chaotic when he sees the pile of books Magnus had picked out for Madzie – that Alec had left behind in his furious haste to fulfill Magnus’ wish of having Alec out – waiting on Alec’s desk in his office. 

Madzie is deeply asleep when Alec goes to check on her. He places the books Magnus had given them on the small table beside her bed so she can see them when she wakes up, lets his eyes adjust to the dark room and the faint light coming in through the window from the tall lamps dotting the Institute’s grounds.

“Hey there, my sleepy sorceress,” he says quietly, sitting at the edge of her bed and gently scratching her hair. It’s for his own comfort than hers, to try and ease the restlessness inside of him. 

Madzie stirs a bit, but Alec runs a hand soothingly down her back, murmuring, “It’s only Alec, go back to sleep,” until she settles down again. As always, Alec can’t help but marvel at how small she is. Dwarfed under the pile of blankets of her already small bed. Alec knows more than anyone the sheer amount of power running through Madzie’s tiny body, and yet that doesn’t mean she’s impervious to hurt. Doesn’t make it any less of Alec’s job to be her shield.

He loves Madzie more than his own life. He knows this as fact. Has known this since she wrapped her arms around his neck that day, clung on to him as though he was her anchor. Would he risk pushing back with the Clave’s directive if the situation was different? If it wasn’t for his fear of losing Madzie? Madzie can never be anything but his number one priority – that part is non-negotiable. But surely, _surely_ this can’t mean that there’s nothing Alec can’t do. 

_I love you,_ he thinks, staring at Madzie’s sleeping form. He remembers the truth he had told Madzie when he first took her in, the promise that sealed her trust in him. _And I don’t just want to be your protector. I want to be someone you can be proud of, too._

Alec’s face flushes with embarrassment when he thinks about it, when he realizes just how much hope he had been pinning on Magnus. And it must have shown. What had Magnus said? _Clearly I’ve fallen short of the bar you’ve set for me_. Except that Magnus hadn’t fallen short of anything. Alec is the one who had fallen short by trying to make something that was his responsibility – personally and professionally – into someone else’s problem. Expecting to have someone else be the commander in a mission and then disagreeing with the methods of execution, demanding more and more. Asking them to take risks.

And that had to stop. Alec needs to be actively involved in this. The route with the Warlock Council didn’t work – then fine. He has to think of something else instead of pushing half-baked ideas at Magnus and offending him. Magnus has made his lines and his plans clear, and if Alec thinks that’s not enough, that it’s too slow, that trying to fix the root cause will neglect the immediate threat – well. Then Alec just has to figure something else out. 

There must be a way. To be able to do right by Madzie and still be able to guard the other children without going against the Clave’s wishes and drawing the Clave’s disapproval for their family. To be able to do all that while _still_ going full speed ahead with the Rouse investigation – though in an ideal world, being able to do the first two should help with finally being able to put away Rouse. It seems impossible.

But impossible just means try again. And Alec – Alec has to try. He just has to be clever enough when he does.

Or, he thinks, a thought occurring to him, he has to find the right group of people who can be clever in the ways he can’t.

Alec has been writing a lot of letters recently, and today he writes one more. _Aline,_ he starts. _I was hoping you could help me look into something while you’re in Alicante. It’s related to an investigation the New York Institute’s running point on, relating to the rogue warlock Iris Rouse..._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please feel free to leave a kudo if you enjoyed :D
> 
> I also want to take a brief minute to bring attention to an issue which is very important to me: the current humanitarian crisis in Yemen affecting countless children and families. If it's within your means and abilities, please consider providing help. Some reputable organizations include [Catholic Relief Services](https://support.crs.org/donate/yemen-crisis), [International Rescue Committee](https://help.rescue.org/donate/holiday-giving-yemen?ms=gd_ppc_fy19_eoy_DecemberEOY_dw_181227&initialms=gd_ppc_fy19_eoy_DecemberEOY_dw_181227&gclid=Cj0KCQiAjZLhBRCAARIsAFHWpbFSqehqCbd6EbwVDX9kshKQALviPAozuP2mr5QuTrRCKlF_PIaI_wsaAlQoEALw_wcB#webform-component-donation), [Islamic Relief USA](http://irusa.org/yemen-humanitarian-crisis/) (and [Canada](https://www.islamicreliefcanada.org/appeals/yemen/?source=google&medium=cpc&gclid=Cj0KCQiAjZLhBRCAARIsAFHWpbFJMfdGDVuT9_JyaG8GhU0jyHpbsOOybTJE6ZdV0UxfgMzbVU5TNl0aAie-EALw_wcB)), and [ Oxfam](https://www.oxfam.org/en/emergencies/crisis-yemen). All of these charities have favourable ratings on [Charity Navigator](https://www.charitynavigator.org/index.cfm?bay=content.view&cpid=1904), though I also encourage everyone to do sufficient and appropriate research to feel comfortable with whichever organizations they choose to engage with.


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